


A Walk in the Dark

by orphan_account



Series: Halloween 2k15 [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe-Supernatural, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Halloween Special, Inhuman Reader, Other, Reader Insert, sorry if i misled you fellow royai shippers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little reader insert special for Halloween.</p><p>One of eight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.  
> I do own the writing.  
> Trigger warnings for blood, gore, and descriptions of murder scenes.
> 
> The reader Roy refers to is the sorceress, for future reference.

Murder cases were Roy Mustang’s least favorite kind, but this one might take the cake for the worst of them all.

Havoc’s face was drawn and grey through his tan, having already chewed his way through several calm-infused cigarettes as he checked to make sure the building was secure. Alphonse looked like he had seen a ghost, sweat clinging to his brow as he scrawled his report down with shaking hands. And Riza was like stone with her hand still planted on the grip of her gun, the other clenched into a fist at the sight of what had once been a ballroom and was now a slaughterhouse.

Ed had lengthened his arm into a blade and disappeared into the bowels of the house alongside Armstrong, and came up with a locked jaw and shaking fists as the other man gave his grave report. Armstrong’s head was bowed in respect to the dead lying strewn around the floor, eyes focused on the tips of his boots. For once, the man was sedate. “There isn’t any sign of the perpetrators left in the house, Colonel. We swept the basement and found another body-the coroner is down there now-but there was no visible evidence besides a few pieces of shipping crates.”

Roy nodded tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose, and whirled around, the cleanup crew behind jolting to attention at the scrape and spark of his boots against the polished wood. The blood on the floorboards was already drying to an ugly brown crust, spattered between spilled food and drinks and the bodies of innocent men and women. Scraps of torn fabric lay scattered about the room, torn by claws and knives and bare teeth in one or two cases. It was going to take a few days just to catalogue all of the the deceased.

“I want to make _sure_ none of these get contaminated, understood?” Roy barked, the pounding in his head growing worse by the minute. “They all need to be DNA tested if the murderers are who I think they are, and we can’t afford for the bureaucrats to let this drop. If we get enough evidence, we may be able to nab those bastards once and for all.”

Each member of the cleanup crew nodded sharply and set to work with cameras and body bags; Roy stepped over a severed hand to reach Riza’s side as she stared at one of the bodies. Roy thought he recognized this one, a young starlet who’d acquired a record deal during college and gave most of her profits to charity. She had been on the news, a simple mention of a large donation made to hunger programs with the funds from the hit single she had written for her girlfriend. Something had ripped her throat out and rent the flesh from her torso, exposing her collarbone bright and white. Her glittery lip gloss was smeared all down her face.

Riza silently handed him an ibuprofen from her pocket and he swallowed it dry before forcing his eyes away from the body. He coughed slightly and took one more surveying glance of the ballroom before moving toward the basement steps, Riza following behind him ghostlike. More gore spattered the stairs as they made their way down, but the droplets grew steadily smaller and fewer until they reached the empty, wide space where cargo legal and not so legal was stored until it could be shipped out to all the corners of the world.

Ed and Armstrong would have missed the subtler clues-they were both excellent officers, credits to their division, but Roy had been dancing this dance with the being he knew was responsible since he had joined the force and he knew that she would have left something more to challenge him for this. Champagne corks tossed into a dusty corner along with a frail strand of white silk. Scraps of black and white fabric with wiry brown and strawlike ivory hairs stuck between the weave. A discarded tube of burgundy lipstick with a clinging scent of old blood. These were the silent, teasing clues Roy followed, and when Riza raised an eyebrow at him as his fingers traced the faint seam in the wall, he simply said, “Trust me.”

She did. The false door slid open.

The secret library stank of smoke, alcohol, magic, and blood, and was stained by it all as well; these people(he hesitated to call them that) clearly didn’t need to care if they stained the furniture, since they moved on as soon as their task was completed. A fine layer of ash coated said furniture and the floor, however; any other evidence had obviously been burned and Roy grudgingly gave her respect for the excellent job she had done. All the clues he would have were those she chose to leave him, no matter what her companions would do. The stains were all that were left, and maybe some fingerprints if he was lucky and Lochrin was on duty tonight.

“Colonel...look,” Riza stated quietly, gesturing to a pale piece of lavender paper lying on the scorched black side table. Despite the fire that had consumed most everything else in the room, it remained pristine and even smelled faintly of lavender as Roy pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked it up. The looping penmanship, in jet black ink, was sparse on the page, but Roy felt a familiar, seething rage at the nonchalance of the words. Before he had joined the police, he had never believed another human being could be so heartless.

_I hope this little diversion did not cause an inconvenience to you, Colonel. We were hoping to make this a surprise. You see, we ran into a few friends of yours and thought it would be a nice gesture to introduce them to one of our holiday routines-as you can see, they took to it quite well._

Roy’s grip on the paper tightened until he saw it crinkling up at the edges.

_It was a very enjoyable party, indeed-I believe we may work together in the future for less frivolous endeavors. In addition, I am deeply sorry for the mess my nymph made of that one gentleman; the land developer, I recall? Perhaps he should have been a little more cautious to not upset a forest spirit. I assure you, it won’t happen again._

_Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, by the way. I am certain the lovely Ms. Hawkeye will make the most beautiful bride of them all._

_Until next time, Colonel Mustang. :)_

Beneath the smile, a familiar, serpentine mark was inked, and Roy could see where the edges of the paper was worn by many different fingers touching it. He carefully folded it up and placed it into an evidence bag, all the while trying mightily to not just ignite the thing and watch her words go up in smoke. Riza placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes tightening, and he inhaled slowly, taking one deep breath after another until he felt like he could move without punching the wall.

“Same as always?” she asked, calm eyes focused on his own.

“Exactly,” he said, and let out a sigh. When they got to go home, he was calling in sick tomorrow. At least twelve hours of sleep would be required before he could deal with this. “She knows we’re engaged, and she’s working with the homunculi now.”

Riza’s eyes widened in shock, and was she not experienced with this sort of thing her handgun would have slipped from her fingers and collided with the ashy floor. “Are you sure?”

“Their mark is on the note, Riza. What else am I supposed to think?”

Roy turned and walked out of the room with clenched fists. While they returned to the others, Riza pried his hand open and gripped it tightly, the skin of her knuckles turning white. Every other officer knew as soon as the two walked back out into the cold night, the lights of the house shining down on them. Ed snarled in fury at the sight of the mark, and it took both Roy and Alphonse to keep him from getting in his squad car and following the tire tracks from the back of the house. Everyone else set to work twice as quick, chalk and gloves at the ready in case anyone popped out of the shadows. Throughout the drive back to the station, the debriefing by the chief, and the long, quiet drive back to his and Riza’s shared apartment, Roy went over the words again and again, until he had burned them into his mind just like all the others before.

_I promise you, (y/n) (l/n), that I’m going to enjoy building your funeral pyre._


End file.
